


Definitions

by ollie_oxen_free



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gay, Gift Fic, M/M, and papyrus is honestly kinda tired of his shit, mention of drug use, surprise: slim is an asshole!, waxing poetic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 04:29:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13139076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ollie_oxen_free/pseuds/ollie_oxen_free
Summary: pity (noun):a cause for regret or disappointment.hate (noun):intense or passionate dislike.





	Definitions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lady_Kit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Kit/gifts).



> merry christmas kit! im not gonna go on too long in the notes, but i just wanted to say that i cant tell you how much it means to me that im able to call you friend. i hope you have a wonderful holiday season, and i hope that this gift suits your fancy!

It was dark outside, the artificial light of the Underground finally fading, when Papyrus heard a tapping at his window. He looked up from his book on advanced puzzle mechanics in confusion, staring at the darkness just beyond the glass. The trees behind their house were too far away to be able to tap on the window with their branches, and the breeze that occasionally rolled through Snowdin never really bothered the branches enough to do any more than rustle the leaves. He placed his bookmark in the center of the pages, closing the book and setting it on his bed as he stood, walking over to his desk. It was far too dark to see, since the lampposts of the town didn’t scare away the shadow of their house, so he leaned forward, squinting out into the night to try and-

“Papyrus!”

He yelped as a skeletal face rushed towards his own, jumping back a few feet with his hands splayed in front of himself in defense. The glass muffled his voice and distorted his image, but there was no doubting that Slim was currently in front of his window. On the second story. The other spoke again. “Hey, I love jazz hands as much as the next guy, but could you lemme in?”

He frowned with a huff, putting his hands down- they were  _ defense _ hands, not  _ jazz _ hands- as he strode to the window, crossing his arms as he looked down at the other’s grin. “We have a door, you know.”

“I know.” Slim adjusted his arms so that he was holding himself up with his elbows, and Papyrus heard a thumping from the outside of the house as he watched Slim lean forwards. He grumbled under his breath, though it wouldn’t have been the first time he had to clean shoeprints off the side of his home. “Open the window.”

He did so with a heavy finality. Papyrus had never sold his soul to the devil, but he was pretty sure that the feeling of dread in his chest was something comparable to lifting up the window, watching as Slim pulled himself in and landed face-first on the floor. The window slid shut when he let go of it, and he locked it for good measure, looking down at Slim’s place on the floor with a sigh.

“You could always just teleport in, you know.”

Slim rolled over so he was facing him, golden tooth glinting in the light of his room as he smiled. “Yea, but it’s not the same as you lettin’ me in yourself.”

It was that, or let the other fall on the ground below, and though Papyrus knew he would be fine- he could climb up to the window in the first place, for goodness sake- he didn’t want to risk the off chance that Slim would hurt himself on accident when he was already prone to such on purpose. And he would just keep coming back anyways, like that one time that he pet the Annoying Dog and had to deal with it following him around for bone attacks and more pats for a solid month or two before it finally gave up. The situations were more similar than he thought, actually.

Though ignoring Slim would do little more than make things awkward, since they often met all of the others for game nights or such, and the other was a regular attendant of them. He had to keep dealing with Slim, or he had to give up seeing his other friends as often. Maybe he should flip a coin?

“So… do you like cars or somethin’?”

Papyrus started as Slim’s voice made him jump out of his thoughts, blinking and trying to pretend that his train of thought hadn’t been going down something that was more along the lines of… impolite. “What?” He asked.

His race car bed was gifted with a slight kick of Slim’s sneaker against the wooden wheel that was carved into the frame by the floor. Papyrus stared at the ratty shoe in distaste. He really should have asked Slim to take off his shoes before he came in. Though there wasn’t much of a chance that he would willingly throw his sneakers out of the window. Either way, there was no helping it now.

“Y’know. You. Cars. Enjoyment? Yes no.”

It took Papyrus a few seconds to align the words with the question from a few moments before, and a few seconds more to express something other than tired exasperation. “Asking for clarification doesn’t mean that you should make things less clear.”

Slim shrugged as he flopped onto the bed, the covers bunching up a bit and coming untucked from where they had been neatly folded. Papyrus made another face, shoving down his initial disgust in order to take a deep breath. “Yes. I like cars.”

“Cool.” Slim closed his eyes, like he was going to sleep, before he opened them again. “I’m bored.”

With that he pushed himself up, shoving his hands in his pockets and leaving his bedroom. Papyrus watched him go. Would it be rude to tell him to leave? No more rude than Slim himself had already been, of course. Then again, he’d learned thus far that the Fellverse monsters had interesting ways of behavior, and Slim’s lack of most or all social mannerisms was probably an extent of that?

A loud creak of springs came from downstairs, and Papyrus exited his room, turning off the light, to see that Slim was laying face-down on their couch. The steps creaked as he walked down them, coming just up to the sofa and stopping in front of it. “I can’t help but feel like there’s something more… hopeless in your arrival this time.”

Slim mumbled something, muffled by the cushions, but Papyrus didn’t bother to ask for clarification. There were a few more seconds of silence before Papyrus cleared his throat. Despite his… arrival, the other was still a guest. “Would you, erm, like anything to eat?”

Slim turned his head from where he was smothering himself in the cushions, staring at him blankly. The look was calculating, void of expression, and Papyrus fought down a shiver. The parallels between universes still shocked him, sometimes, and seeing the same cold judgement that Fell had held for the longest time after they had all connected reflected on a face that was more often than not drugged out and joking was eerie. The look passed as Slim sat up, shuffling over to to the kitchen and walking in. Papyrus hesitated before following after.

“Good idea,” he said, because he couldn’t really bring himself to comment on the rudeness of the action when Slim might not even be aware of it himself, “It’s probably much better for you to search through the cabinets yourself to find what you want!”

The other pulled out a can of ravioli from behind a box of cereal with a grin. Papyrus went to grab him a can opener and a bowl to heat it up with before the sound of an attack forming started him out of his actions, Slim using a bone to pry the lid off and toss it on the counter. He skewered a piece of the cold pasta with the construct before eating it as he walked out of the room, leaving the top of the can behind. Papyrus looked at the circle of sauce-covered metal with distaste before forcing a grin. At least the other had put it on the counter? As if hearing his thoughts, Slim walked back in, making direct eye contact as he slowly slid the top to the edge and knocked it on the floor. Papyrus just stared at it for a few moments before he sighed, picking it up and grabbing a rag to wipe up the sauce with. It’s fine! Not like the trashcan was right beside the counter or anything! Papyrus was more than  _ happy _ to help clean up whatever mess Slim made.

The tv in the other room switched on, and Papyrus felt his eye twitch. Wow, he sure was glad that Slim was making himself comfortable! Especially while he was in the kitchen, using his foot to clean up the splatters of sauce that had gotten on the floor! He rinsed the rag out once he was done with it, wringing the excess water and setting it on the edge of the sink for when he would definitely need it later.

He walked into the living room cautiously, like he was dealing with an unpredictable beast like the ones that sometimes fell from the surface, and in all honesty the comparison wasn’t entirely off. The other was leaning against the arm of the couch, eating cold ravioli like a king in his castle, though Papyrus had seen the king before and Asgore neither ate pasta nor broke into people’s houses to lay claim to their sofas. Not that he knew of, at least.

A harsh scraping from the can in Slim’s hands let him know the other was done, and Papyrus prepared to walk forward to grab it from where Slim would inevitably drop it on the floor before the other tossed it up in the air, adding it to his index when it reached the top of its arc. That… worked, he supposed. He shuffled over to the couch, looking at the cushions like they would bite him, before he sat down slowly, keeping an eye on Slim. It would definitely be rude to keep standing if Slim was sitting, right? He didn’t know why he was so concerned with not being rude considering Slim’s actions. It was fine.

Slim turned his head to look at him, and Papyrus suddenly regretted his decision to sit down when the other winked, grin stretching across his face. “How goes the quest for popularity?”

“It’s…” It was going well. He was training with Undyne, and he was on his way to being a guard. People in town knew his name, and they always seemed happy to see him. He shook the thoughts from his head. “Why do you ask?”

“A guy can’t ask questions?”

“It’s just… odd that you would do so, when you usually just come in and take food and then leave.”

Slim laughed, fading off into a chuckle as he scratched the back of his head, not denying it. It was true, of course. Slim would come in and take food, lay on their couch for a while, and then be gone before Papyrus had a chance to say goodbye. He’d asked before, why Slim came to their house so often, and had only gotten an off-handed shrug in response. It might have had something to do with Razz, though Papyrus couldn’t be sure. The only thing he could be sure of was that Slim would likely be angry at him if he suggested as such. That was one thing that was parallel across all the universes, it seemed.

Slim looked away, and Papyrus worried that maybe he had come across as too harsh, or maybe insensitive. Slim showing interest in his life was signs of friendship, right? Or manipulation, his mind supplied, but there wasn’t really much that he had to offer in terms of being manipulated. Except maybe a never-ending supply of canned ravioli. 

“Just curious. You used to brag about being noticed all the time and now you don’t, so I just wanted to know.”

“I wasn’t,” he frowned, eyes tracing the patterns in the carpet as he stoutly avoided looking at Slim, “I was never ‘bragging’ about it. I was just…”

“Bragging.” He huffed, crossing his arms. The other chuckled again. “Don’t get huffy, I was just kiddin’ around.”

The tv was a welcome distraction, but the show that was currently on was far from one of his favorites. Then again, the remote was on the other side of the couch, sitting beside Slim’s arm, and he was fairly certain that if he asked Slim to hand it to him then the other would swallow it whole under the pretense of ‘vore.’ Or something along those lines. “So, it was a bit of bragging. There’s nothing wrong with that! I just…”

“Like being noticed?” Slim quirked his brow at him, and Papyrus opened his mouth to argue before coming to terms with the fact that Slim was pretty much correct, closing his mouth with a click and giving a small nod. “You like being noticed, but nobody will notice you unless you make them.” Slim shrugged after that, like it was common knowledge. “No one’s gonna make sure that you don’t get left behind, so the best way to make sure that you don’t is to just kinda…” He held his hands up in front of himself, palms facing out, before shoving them quickly forward. “Y’know?” 

‘No, no he didn't know’ he wanted to say, but held it back last minute. “To push them down?”

Slim grinned. “If you have to. Push ‘em, shove ‘em, stab ‘em- though I doubt you’re gonna do that last one. Either way, make yourself unforgettable, and go out kicking and screaming.”

“So…” He paused, thinking. “You make yourself unforgettable by making yourself something that everyone wants to forget?”  

Slim winked, snapping his fingers and pointing at him. Papyrus just stared back, leaning away from the other as much as the arm of the sofa would let him. The words made sense when he didn’t think of them too hard. On the surface it would almost seem philosophical, like some great plethora of knowledge that would benefit everyone who heard it. Though Papyrus was never satisfied on surface level, and thinking more about the slight feeling that was ingrained within every individual of wanting to be remembered and combining it with Slim’s logic brought a greater sense of ‘Hey, this doesn’t make any sense!’

Papyrus told him as such. Slim cocked a brow, a glint in his eyes like he knew something that Papyrus didn’t- a lot of people looked at him that way, he realized, but that was a thought for another time- as he turned on the couch so he was fully facing him, lifting his legs up and crossing them on the cushion. “My way doesn’t make sense, your way doesn’t make sense. Nothing makes sense. Yet there’s sense in the nonsensical.” Papyrus just stared at him, prompting a sort of dying chuckle from Slim.    
“I do a lot of drugs,” he explained. Papyrus just nodded. Yes, yes he knew.

“What…” he trailed off, both wanting to ask the question on his mind and already regretting the answer. “What do you mean ‘my way’?”

Slim leaned forward, like he was sharing a secret. Papyrus kept his distance. “You walk around Snowdin and everyone says hi, but not because they all like you, right? Or maybe they do. But pity has no real power.”

Slim stopped speaking after that, tenting his fingers and staring at him silently. Something was still glinting in his eyes, held in the amusement of his gaze and the small crinkle of bone at the corner of his sockets. “You help around Snowdin with all the bunnies and dogs, and everyone knows your name. The only difference between us is that you’re regarded with fondness and some pity, and I’m remembered as that one asshole who deserves a kick in the teeth.”

Slim grinned, lifting up his hand and tapping on one of his gold canines with a wink. “We’re polar opposites, right? So we get remembrance two different ways. Yours is pity, and mine is hate.”

He just watched the other. That… was wrong, right? It had to be. He wasn’t- well, he  _ was,  _ but not by everyone. People hung out with him! ~~Because they feel sorry for you.~~ Others knew his name! ~~You scream it loud enough that even the deaf could hear.~~ He wasn’t…

“Pity and hate aren’t polar opposites. That’s… love and hate.”

Slim stuck the tip of his tongue out. “Love and hate are pretty much the same thing.” His hand lifted in the air, waving back and forth like he was conducting his speech. “Love and hate are both strong emotions, and they go hand in hand. But pity? It’s soft, and sad.”

Papyrus looked away, staring down at his hands, twiddling his thumbs. When he heard Slim suck in a breath, he looked up. “God, I’m gonna regret this so bad when I’m sober.”

Papyrus could definitely agree on that one. He was sober, and he regretted it for sure. Though more likely than not it would be more regrettable for him than for Slim since the other would have been blacked out from his… hobbies. He shifted in his place on the couch, jaw working in thought. It would be unlikely that Slim would remember anything- he could recognize the hazed out eyelights the other was sporting from a mile away, and it wasn’t often that Slim was ever sober- and it may have been less than appropriate, but it would be nice to have an answer to the question on his mind.

He turned to fully face Slim, letting his ribcage expand with air before he asked, “Is that why you come over here so often? To be remembered?”

Slim rolled his head on his shoulders, making Papyrus shudder as the action let loose a series of loud cracks. His eyes were closed, like he was thinking over his answer, but Papyrus knew as well as anyone that Slim would never really think before he spoke. “Kinda. You don’t fully hate me, and I don’t fully pity you. You pity parts of me, and I hate parts of you. It’s a nice little balance.” His speech was slower, slightly slurred.

The words stopped after that, and Papyrus leaned forward enough to hear soft snores coming from Slim’s form, muffled by his closed teeth. He stood with a sigh, both thankful for the reprieve and disappointed that was the end of it. There were a few extra blankets in the closet by the front door, so he grabbed one and draped it over Slim, simultaneously impressed and exasperated at the fact that Slim fell asleep sitting cross-legged.

Looking down on the other, feeling something like annoyance and something like sadness for Slim in equal amounts, he realized the other was right.

No two emotions contradicted each other like pity and hate.

**Author's Note:**

> happy crisis


End file.
